gigiquita
Oh the endless visits from my mother-in-law...how can I possibly stop them from happening? Partly this is my fault for allowing them to happen in the first place. If had just been mean and bitchy from day one, I could avoid her (and the whole family) from coming to visit every few months. They are such slobs and never clean up after themselves.
"For all the angels and saints, can you please stay still?", the mother yelled to the child, who continued to move even after being yelled at.
All the other adult customers in the store, turned to look at where the angered mother was.
In her peripheral vision, she could see that there was a black spot. She couldn't quite make out if it was a shadow or a smudge on her side mirror. She couldn't validate it through her rear view window so what could it be?
Believe in whatever you want. I don't agree with you. I don't think we should close off the borders to refugees or immigrants. After all, they built this country from scratch. You can continue to scare people into think you are a good leader but many people don't believe a word you say.
"You have to believe. You have to know that you mean the world to me! How could you not know that?"
"Well, partly because your actions and your words never match each other! Ever think about that?"
He looked at her incredulously. He thought he was so obvious in his actions towards her. But apparently, she didn't feel the same way.
Reflecting on the time I spent in "The City of Lights", I remember the wonderful friends I made, the independence I gained, the fabulous food I ate and the love that grew between me and that incredible city.
Despite giving me chocolates and a wonderful caramel macchiato to lure me into the bad news he was going to deliver, I was ahead of his game. I knew his tricks and wasn't going to let him get the best of me. I had prepared for this encounter for weeks and I was going to get my revenge. He couldn't play me for a fool.
"Shaken, not stirred", he said doing his best James Bond impression.
She was not impressed. She wanted to punch him in the face. She knew that he would never, could never be as suave and debonair as the legendary literary and film character.
When I hear the encouragement that we should turn our emotions to art, I am shaken to the core. Art isn't seen as anything important. It's not what pays the bills. Being a completely close-minded jerk is what pays the bills. Being personable and sensitive is for no one important.
The event would be televised, which was a change from previous years. Most of those involved wondered why the change had even been made. The few who were happy about it seemed ridiculously content with the decision, which made the others even more skeptical.
load more entries